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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26224636">"They Will Wet Themselves With Blood"</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Author is trans, Bahorel is a true homie, Blood, Canon Era, Chest Binding, Confusion, Dehydration, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enjolras is very confused in many ways, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gender Dysphoria, Grantaire Angst, Grantaire is a Mess, Grantaire is very scared, He is ride or die for Grantaire, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Please don't get mad at Joly he's just confused, Poor Grantaire, Trans Character, Trans Grantaire, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, combeferre is wonderful, unsafe binding</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:28:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,025</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26224636</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>One day, Grantaire passes out in the middle of a meeting and he's also trailing blood behind him. Turns out he is on his period and dehydrated, and not binding correctly. Bahorel is the only one that knew he's trans, and threatens all of the amis to respect Grantaire or die.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bahorel &amp; Grantaire (Les Misérables), Combeferre/Courfeyrac (Les Misérables)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Grantaire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>POV: Grantaire</p><p>i tried to be historically accurate on how periods were handled, but warning its probably not the best. however, i think i did ok with the effects of unsafe binding. lots of blood in this chapter, just a warning.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>My day starts off shitty, with my bed full of blood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of fucking course.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My boxers are soaked in the dark liquid, and smell awful. I throw them in my bathroom, I’ll deal with them later. I quickly down most of a bottle of wine before stripping my mattress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I probably should have been able to predict this, given I haven’t had my cycle in a while and the immense pain I’ve been in as of late, and the particularly grouchiness I’ve had, but I suppose I just didn’t want to see it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hate my cycle. It makes my moods awful, my body hurt everywhere, and it’s a constant reminder of the body I was born in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And to make matters worse, there’s an ABC meeting today.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’ll have to bind my aching chest, find a way to deal with the stink of my horribly fertile body, and manage to stop up all the endlessly flowing blood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because to top it all off, I have a heavy cycle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This week is going to be fan-fucking-tastic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I make it to the Musain, slightly cleaner and hopefully not smelling too awful. My chest is bound, despite the pain it puts me in. Whatever, that’s what alcohol is for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sit quietly and immediately get a bottle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I won’t make a scene today, I tell myself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I won’t move around too much so I stay comfortable and leak-free, and I won’t draw unnecessary attention to myself. Then I’ll go home and pass out drunk to block out the pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bossuet comes and sits down next to me and immediately starts talking, I don’t listen much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can feel my ribs bending and the blood soaking through the cloth I stuffed in my boxers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Enjolras thankfully starts the meeting, and I can properly ignore my friends without seeming rude.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I think someone addressed me, but I’m not quite sure. My head is fuzzy and the world is spinning, all sound around me sounds far away. My limbs feel buzzy and floaty, and my head feels like the dregs at the bottom of Jehan’s cup of tea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I asked if you have anything to add, Grantaire.” Enjolras snaps at me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well I’m never one to turn down an argument with Apollo himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I feel myself rise from my seat, head spinning even faster, and open my mouth to speak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then nothing.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Enjolras</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>POV: Enjolras</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Grantaire has been quiet the whole meeting, he hasn’t interrupted once or even whispered to Bossuet or Bahorel next to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So I decide to test something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I specifically bring up the purpose of man on Earth, knowing he can never resist arguing with me about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He keeps staring blankly, which only enrages me more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is a sacred meeting, and he’s just sitting here drunk!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grantaire!” I shout in fury.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Combeferre shoots a glance at me but I ignore him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” He slurs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I asked if you have anything to add, Grantaire.” I say, my voice cold and biting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pauses for a moment, then rouses himself from his seat, smirking at me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He opens his mouth to start his grand drunken speech about how life is pointless…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And falls forward onto his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s gasps and swearing, and Bahorel quickly lifts the limp man into his arms before Joly or Combeferre can reach him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bahorel, set him down on the table.” Combeferre commands. “I need to examine him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll take him home.” Bahorel says gruffly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want him to die?” Combeferre raises a sharp eyebrow, and Bahorel relents, setting down Grantaire’s unconscious body on a table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“His breathing is off.” Combeferre notes, and his hands move to Grantaire’s waistcoat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bahorel grabs his wrist quick as lightning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” He says firmly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Th-there’s blood on his shoes.” Joly stammers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The whole group is gathered around Grantaire, me included.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was also kind of trailing blood behind him.” Courfeyrac says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?! Why didn’t you tell me?!” Combeferre says urgently, his hands flying to his hair in worry. “Alright, I’ll find the source of the blood.” Combeferre’s hands trail up Grantaire’s pants, and I shift uncomfortably.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Combeferre, this is an invasion of his privacy.” Bahorel says harshly. “Get your hands of him-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I very well may be saving his life, are you the medical student here?” Combeferre snaps back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pants are too much, for a lot of reasons. I shoot a soft glare at Combeferre.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fine, I'll figure out why his breathing is off. And Bahorel, don't you dare say no, because he needs medical attention."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Combeferre makes quick work to unbutton Grantaire’s waistcoat and untie his cravat, folding them neatly on the table, before Bahorel can protest. His hands shake a little as he reaches to unbutton his shirt, but he steadies himself and strips Grantaire of his shirt as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grantaire has bandages under his shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Is he really hurt that bad? The bandages look tight, and I can see red chafing around them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although there’s no blood on the bandages, which is odd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone gasps, seemingly understanding something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Combeferre, what are you waiting for? The cuts under there could be infected.” I say, breaking the silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grantaire and I don’t always get along, but that doesn’t mean he deserves to be hurt or in pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think the bandages are there for cuts.” Courfeyrac says cryptically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What does that even mean?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, why else would he need bandages?” I ask. “I’m no medical student, but bandages are for injuries.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enjolras-” Combeferre starts, hands hovering over the bandages. “I think maybe it’s best if everyone leaves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to check his-her ribs.” Joly says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why did he call Grantaire her?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And suddenly Bahorel is holding Joly by the throat, shoving Bossuet away with his other arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He.” Bahorel growls in Joly’s face. “His ribs. Understand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But-” Joly chokes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bahorel let him go!” Jehan shrieks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Understand?” Bahorel growls again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joly nods meekly, and Bahorel lets go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bahorel-” Feuilly gasps, but Bahorel ignores him and turns back to Grantaire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Combeferre, you can check his ribs. Everyone else will leave now.” Bahorel says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’ve seen Bahorel angry, but never at one of us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s never assaulted one of our group, and he definitely doesn’t seem to regret it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To attack Joly so harshly?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He always insists we’re brothers, that he would fight anyone to protect us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And all of this over Grantaire having bandages on?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Joly called Grantaire “her,” which I still don’t understand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why would he say that, just after seeing bandages on his chest?</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grantaire…” I gasp quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enjolras, you are leaving too.” Bahorel says roughly, looking me exactly in the eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go.” Courfeyrac says, gentler. “C’mon.” He ushers everyone out of the back room, to the main room of the Musain, leaving only Grantaire, Combeferre, and Bahorel behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one go home.” Jehan says quietly. “When Grantaire wakes we need to support him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nod.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We stay.” I say firmly.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>poor enj is just confused, and he just wants grantaire to be ok</p><p>next chapter is bahorel's pov!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Bahorel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>swearing, mentioned transphobia, misogyny, self hatred, sort of referenced self harm, just a lot of junk because grantaire hates himself and is trans in 1832</p><p>POV: Bahorel</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Yeah, I’m fucking upset.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is Grantaire’s biggest secret, one he barely trusted me with, and he’s being forced to reveal it against his will?</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Yes it’s kind of his fault he bound his chest too tight, but apparently he’s also on his cycle now so I don’t blame him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And for Joly to call him her?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unacceptable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Combeferre’s hands are still reaching over the bandages binding Grantaire’s chest, and I glare at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go ahead, doctor.” I say sharply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bahorel, I don’t want to do this, but I also don’t want him to die. If he’s been doing this for several months, probably even years, he could have severely damaged muscle tissue and even gotten an infection” Combeferre says, his voice infuriatingly calm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least he’s calling him he.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s still a man.” I say firmly. “I don’t care what you learned in medical school-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course he’s still a man, Bahorel. He’s still our Grantaire. And you could do him a service and get him water, knowing him he’s only had wine all day. The idiot needs to replenish the blood he’s losing.” Combeferre tells me, not meeting my eyes as he carefully unwraps Grantaire’s chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I smile a bit at what he says though, I don’t know why I underestimated Combeferre. Of course he understands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I fetch a pitcher of water as Combeferre tuts at Grantaire’s side, mumbling things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need Joly.” He says eventually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” I reply quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not after he called Grantaire her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bahorel, the coloration-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Joly insulted him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Joly was confused. He will understand, he has two lovers for goodness sake. What’s best for Grantaire-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s best for Grantaire is being exposed to as few people as possible. In this state-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grantaire mumbles something, and Combeferre and I both quickly turn to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“R?” Combeferre asks tentatively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The artist’s eyes flutter open, and I sigh in relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank God you’re awake.” I hold a cup of water out to him. “Drink. You passed out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-Where-” He sits up the slightest bit, wincing, and his eyes widen. “Please tell me no one else was here…” He mumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I sent them out as soon as I could.” I say quickly. “But they all know… I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Drink, R.” Combeferre echoes me. “That’s mostly why you passed out. You need to drink to replenish the blood you’re losing. Once you’ve had enough water I can give you something for the pain that I’m guessing you’re in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-Yes, a woman such as I must be incapable of bearing the pain.” Grantaire says sarcastically, taking the cup from me and drinking from it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His defense mechanism to pretend he’s not in pain and feeling awful about his gender.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you a woman?” Combeferre asks calmly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you can see that for yourself.” Grantaire finishes the water and gestures to his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I’ve known you as a man for a few years now.” Combeferre says. “I think your body doesn’t change your gender. If you wish for me to treat you as a woman, you need only ask, but you seem uncomfortable with the prospect.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-” Grantaire obviously doesn’t know what to say, and honestly neither do I.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’ve spent the six months I’ve known Grantaire’s secret supporting him in every way I can, and promising I will protect him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you feel you are a man, you are a man.” Combeferre says in the silence. “I feel I love Courfeyrac, a man. And I can’t believe I just admitted that… But R, the point is you know who you are, and what my previous notions were do not matter. I’m going to continue to treat you like normal, mon frere, but you need only ask and I shall change that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grantaire nods at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To start, I’m very concerned with the coloration around your chest. I-I think it’s a fungal disease of some sort. There’s also definitely skin tissue decay, how long have you been doing this for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Three years?” Grantaire says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re lucky to not be dead.” Combeferre replies. “It hurts to breathe, I’m guessing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like hell.” Grantaire agrees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well you’ve definitely damaged your lungs as well then.” Combeferre says a bit gravely. “R, my best suggestion is to take a break from binding your chest. Your body needs time to heal, if this much damage even can heal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not stopping.” Grantaire says firmly. “This is my one semblance of comfort, the one thing that keeps me from tearing apart my body at its very seams, and if you keep me from binding I shall be drunk all the time, there’s no doubt in that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re already drunk all the time.” I joke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And yet I still knocked you to the ground during our boxing match last week.” Grantaire smirks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I relax a bit at his smile, he’s seemed to be calmer now. The first thing I learned when he first told me of his sex was that I can’t treat him differently. The last thing he wants is to be treated like anyone but his usual drunken self.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I take Grantaire’s hand in mine as Combeferre keeps fussing over him, mumbling medical nonsense under his breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grantaire squeezes, and I squeeze back.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>it very much bothers me when people have trans characters binding unsafely and make it seem like its fine. i love mulan, but for years i thought binding with bandages was ok! please dont! so heres some accurate old timey trans dude-ness, in which grantaire has been binding wrong and it seriously damaged his ribs, because thats what happens. i was just real starved for accurate trans content, so i wrote some. no shade to other fics, i love reading all the trans fanfic i can get, but i was really excited to write this for grantaire because i love him and it can be a nice way to educate people.</p><p>please leave a kudos or a comment if you enjoyed, it means a lot to me!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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